The Three Lost Children Return
by hpfan23
Summary: Snape wasn't the only one to overhear the prophesy. Gilda, a Death Eater's widow, also heard. To save the child of prophesy, Gilda takes three children from their families and raises them. With her death, the kids are sent to her brother. Now he is dead.
1. Nothing New

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. He will never be mine. But there's hope for Daniel Radcliff, if I can only make him notice that I exist. sighs Warnings include child abuse and mentions of attempted (note I emphasized that they hadn't succeeded) rape of a minor. Many thanks go to my brilliant motivator and beta, the most wonderful and gorgeous Novocain, without whom I never would have written this.

Summary: When Dumbledore received the prophecy, Snape wasn't the only one to overhear. Gilda, a Death Eater widow, also heard it. When her husband died, grief caused her to miscarry her first child, a daughter. Children became the most important thing to her. To save the child of the prophecy, Gilda took three children from their homes over the course of two years. When the eldest child was three years old, Gilda was murdered. Thought to be her natural children, the three were sent to Gilda's brother. He abused the children until his death. This occurred in the summer before the children's fifth year at Marvin's School for Underprivileged Witches and Wizards. Now the three inseparable siblings will be split up and returned to their families. But what secrets do these three children carry with them? Can the children adjust to new families, a new school, new threats, and new lives?

Chapter 1 – Nothing New

Pain. Dripping noise. A distant chatter. Breathe rattles as it comes in. '_Need more air_.' Draws a deeper breathe. Agony! White fire and spots across the blackness. '_Breathe_' her voice whispers, an echoing reminder in his mind. He knows she has not spoken it aloud. He blinks his green eyes open. Grey. Textured grey concrete slab. Beyond the slab, a blurry and unfocused form. A man. Maybe two. No. Only one. Head injuries always give him double vision. Make it hard to think in complete sentences, too. He'd be annoyed about the disconnected thoughts, but that takes too much concentration. The man-form moves closer. He can tell the man is speaking, but he can't make out the words. He blinks again. The man remains. He closes his eyes to try to better concentrate and catalog the injuries. Pain in his back and in his head. A blurry, double vision that would make him nauseated if he had anything left in his stomach to sick up. It is nothing new. Except the man. He isn't uncle. _'Uncle! Oh, no! He'll be furious!_' The panic of this thought cuts through some of the fog in his brain. Not much. Not enough to think in full and complete sentences. Enough to understand what the man is trying to say, though.

"Hey son, can you hear me?" How original. Profound. And loud.

"N-not y-your sson." It is rasped. Oh, how it hurts to speak. He must have screamed longer than he remembered doing so. After a while, it all kind of blends together. Especially with the way Uncle does it. He mentally adds throat damage to the list of injuries. Also nothing new. He can see more people in the distance. Their body language speaks of . . . horror. Horror and pity, and that odd sensation that you get when you see something truly, fascinatingly horrible, but you can't look away – like your dead puppy lying in the street. It's just too awful. Or not. It's so hard to tell. His vision is very blurry. '_Nothing will fix that. Nothing ever has, thank Merlin._' It is useless to ask uncle for glasses to correct his vision. He knows this. Has always known this. Even before he knew the pain and cruelty that was uncle's true nature. That was alright, though. Better that he not have to know exactly what uncle looked like right before -

"Can you tell me your name?" Curse the man, he is persistent. And way too loud. But then, everything was too loud. It had been for . . .

"Why?" rasped. Again. So very tired.

"Well, I'm no longer allowed to call you son, and I don't think you'd like boy any . . ." the annoying man pauses as the young man gives a violent flinch at the name 'boy.' "Nope, definitely not an option. Will you answer to 'kid'?" The man's tone indicates he is trying to be funny. Doesn't help.

"N-Nedj-" is coughed out. Water would be so nice. Cool. Smooth. Not harsh like the concrete under his face. Not biting like the ropes digging into his wrists and ankles. Not aching like -

"Ned?" His thoughts are interrupted by the man. Good. Bad thoughts.

"Sure." He tries to shrug and nearly screams. If only he could scream. It comes out as more of a pathetic whimper. Agony. Burning all across his back and shoulders. He can feel the warm liquid slipping down his back and along his spine in places. Not felt in others. The absence of sensation is as noticeable as what he actually feels. He wonders how broken he is this time. Will it be only a temporary loss, like before? He can feel some of the liquid dripping off of him and onto the concrete below. He blinks. Again. '_Breathe_.' The mental reminder comes again in her voice. It always does. Her voice breaks the cycle of pain, pain, pain. Even in his imagination, he always listens to his sister. The girls! He nearly jolted in surprise at the sudden reminder.

"Grrrlss. Siss. . ." he choked and nearly sobbed. They were everything. Light, hope, happiness. If lost, the dark was never black enough.

"Here." Relief. Calm. Not her voice, no. She didn't talk in front of grownups. Well, unless she had to. No, it was her voice. The other would not be so calm, even if she did speak now. But this voice stayed calm during all the bad times. There were certainly enough of them. Too many. She always panicked after.

"'Kay?" his voice wavered badly.

"Fine. Safe. You too." All and nothing at once. She never needed to say much to be understood. They were too close to need it. An advantage to being one of a set of triplets.

"Shouldn't move. Cuts are deep this time." Ah, that would've been nice to know sooner. "Doctor's coming. They're waiting for him before untying you – worried about your arm."

Arm? But that doesn't hurt. It's one of the few – oh. He finally notices that he can only feel his right arm. Not his left. Nothing from just above the shoulder down on that arm. Not even a tingle. Probably dislocated. He thinks so. He hopes so. Red hair appears in his vision. Good. She's here as well. That was . . . very good. Something in him that he hadn't realized was tense relaxes. They would be alright. They always were. It was nothing new.

"Sleepy," he slurs. Unconsciousness chases her protests away.

End Chapter 1

AN - This is my first fanfic ever. I have always been a lurker and I meant to stay one. I struck up a conversation with the totally awesome Novocain (she's incredible - go read her stories). I sent her a few of my ideas and she encouraged me to write. Please review and tell me if you like it. No flames please - I burn easily.


	2. Hospital Conversations

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I also do not own quotes from Despair dot com. Anyone who claims differently will be subjected to the pointed-to-and-laughed-at treatment. Again, many thanks go to my awesome encourager and brilliant beta Novocain.

Chapter 2 – Hospital Conversations

_He ran faster through the woods. He could see the girls in front of him. His best friend was keeping pace beside him. _Faster!_ They had to run faster! They could never hope to outrun it, of course, but if they could just get to the old oak, they'd be safe. The moon illuminated the forest floor around him, enabling him to dodge most of the tree roots that would have otherwise tripped him up. No doubt the faint light also made him easily visible to their pursuer. _Run faster!

"_We're nearly there!" he gasped aloud. A noise behind him forced him to risk a glance over his shoulder to see how close it was. He quickly turned to the front as he tripped over another root. He would have hit the ground, but Alex managed to snag his shoulder and helped keep him on his feet. Facing again, he continued running. The girls, he could see, had finally reached the tree and were climbing. _Finally!_ He and Alex reached the base of the tree. He and Alex took different limbs and began to climb. The second limb he grabbed broke in his hand. He landed hard on his side, knocking the air out of him and injuring his arm. Alex looked back and, seeing him on the ground and bent over his arm in pain, jumped out of the tree to help. Alex quickly gave him a boost up, knowing his injuries wouldn't let him climb easily on his own. He was up the tree! He was safe! He turned back down to Alex to pull him up from where he was hanging from the branch by his arms. He got a good grip and then – suddenly the pursuing wolf burst from the brush and lunged for Alex' dangling foot, catching him by the heel. Alex screamed._

Ned blinked and pushed away the nightmare. He found the waking world to be very . . . white. Everything was white. It had to be a hospital. He felt oddly disconnected and fuzzy. The sensations were similar to the night before, but different (was it only the night before?). It had to be painkillers. Muggle, wizard, didn't matter; painkillers always had an interesting affect on his perception.

"Ah! Good morning, Ned. How do you feel?" Hmm, he was usually quicker to notice that he was being watched. "You'll be happy to know the girls are well." Good; one less thing to worry over. '_And if he's lying..._'

A man sat on the chair beside his hospital bed. He appeared to be of average height (though sitting down it was hard to tell). He had short, dark blond hair, and he wore black pants and a blue shirt. Ned stared. He recalled having seen this man before. Where? Oh, yes. The annoyingly loud one who stood there asking stupid questions while Ned was lying tied spread eagle to the raised concrete slab in the back yard. The day Uncle lost it completely. Or was it that day? It seemed such a long time that he'd been tied there, waiting for Uncle to '_just finish it already, please!_' Ned blinked and pushed the memory from his mind with as much force as he could muster.

"Are you still with me, Ned?" Funny, Ned didn't recall ever joining the man. Ned didn't immediately recognize him because his vision was so much clearer now – the double vision the night before had made it very difficult to see. Ned felt he should respond in some way. He'd already pushed his luck far enough the other night with all that 'not your son' nonsense. Honestly, he shouldn't care what people called him anymore.

"Where am I?" Stupid questions get - well, in this case, another stupid question. It offered a response without antagonizing or giving up any information. Ned honestly didn't feel like playing the questions game. It was kind of boring at this point. He was usually able to come up with more intelligent responses, though. Damn the painkillers. He ignored the answer the man was giving. It didn't matter. Uncle would never pay for a lengthy hospital stay. He was lucky he'd been allowed to stay this long. After all, that which does not kill you postpones the inevitable, right? He wasn't sure what the man wanted. Ned rolled his head vaguely from side to side to see if the gentle movement would aide in jump starting his mind. It didn't work. At least, not how he'd intended.

"What happened to my hair?" Ned asked tensely. The loss of his shoulder length hair was quite noticeable and alarming. It cut through much of the remaining fog and allowed him to focus on what wasn't instead of what was. He absently acknowledged that this attempt to speak went much better than his last attempt. His throat had been so dry and sore the other night. He must have been out for a while; that or they'd medicated his throat. Both were equally unsettling options, all things considered.

"I'm sorry. It was filthy and you had several cuts along the top and back of your head. They had to shave off your hair in order to stitch your injuries and prevent infection." The man did look truly apologetic. Ned mentally snorted. Uncle had taught him at a very young age that appearances weren't to be trusted. Never mind that long hair was merely a subtle way to spite his uncle. If Uncle thought he was giving in now . . .

"When does Uncle want us to go home?" The question escaped him before he was aware it had formed in his mind. Double damn the painkillers! That was never a question that should be asked. Let them forget about Uncle! Ned sighed. He felt so very tired, now. No, not tired. Weary - weary to his very bones. It was too late, anyway, so what did it matter?

The man across from Ned looked uncomfortable. "About your uncle, Ned…" Ned braced himself for the coming questions that were always asked in this type of situation. Ned really didn't feel up to this. "I'm not sure if I'm the best person to say this. Of course, considering how we found you, the news might not be as unwelcome as it usually is." Ned stared in confusion as the man leaned forward, an earnest expression on his face. "Ned, your uncle is dead."

Ned blinked. "That's not funny." He couldn't believe someone would joke about something like this. Especially not having seen him in the condition he'd been the last time he was with his uncle.

"No," the man agreed with a sigh. "None of this is funny. They tell me your injuries go back several years; most of them with similar severity. I know that it won't change what happened or affect your future living conditions, since your uncle's already dead and you can no longer live with him, but I have to ask: was your uncle abusing you?"

"Yes." Ned sat there, shocked and confused. The combination of his uncle's death with the pain killers and injuries seemed to have interfered with his ability to consider and edit his words before they came out. "Since I was five." The shock and medication made it very difficult to focus, as evidenced by Ned's next statement. "Who are you?"

"My apologies, Ned," The man seemed a bit thrown for a moment. He didn't seem to expect the admission, the topic change, or the new question. "My name is Joe Knolls. I'm with the local police. What do you remember about the night the police located you on the property?"

"I remember seeing you." Ned allowed his voice to become reflective as he reviewed the choppy memory of that night. "It was getting dark. There were a lot of artificial lights and people talking. You kept asking me questions. You asked about my name and if I was alright. I don't know. What I could see and hear cut in and out a lot. You told me your name that night, didn't you?" It was the only possible explanation for the timing of that last question.

"Yes, that's right." Joe smiled. "I'm not surprised you don't remember. You seemed to be experiencing a lot of pain. That would make anyone a little out of it."

"Why are you here?" Another question he didn't want to ask. _'Merlin, I hope we're not being blamed for this! They couldn't possibly be that stupid._'

"I needed to ask you if you know what happened to your uncle. It's just for the record." Ned contemplated his response as he watched Joe's expression. It was a question that Ned had been expecting, though he couldn't offer much help.

"I don't know, sir." It is always a good idea to offer the correct title when speaking to those in authority. It helped to prevent unwanted 'special' attention later. Besides, it was the truth. Whatever happened to Uncle occurred behind Ned. "I just remember waiting for Uncle to finally end it. He was worse that night than he'd ever been before. I don't know what set him off, but I was fairly sure he wouldn't stop until I was dead. I remember a noise, like he'd fallen backward. I figured he'd lost his balance and tripped. I kept waiting for him to get back up and continue, but—" Ned allowed his voice to crack and die. He really didn't want to talk about this. Offering enough information to explain while keeping the most important parts private usually made the questioner think they had everything and would then back off. Ned saw Joe's arm move out of the corner of his eye and stop, as if the man had thought to offer comfort through touch and then changed his mind. A wise choice.

"Officially, the current evidence suggests that he did trip and fall. It seems that when he fell he impaled himself on the metal rod sticking up out of the ground. It hit him in such a way that death was nearly unavoidable, even if he had been found right away." Nice of Uncle, though Ned was positive he hadn't done it on purpose. "You and the girls aren't in any trouble."

Ned opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted as the door opened admitting the nurse.

"Officer Knoll! You were supposed to call us when the patient woke up! Get out. This boy needs rest." The nurse looked very upset. Joe, it seemed, was unwilling to argue the point and rose from his chair. Ned couldn't prevent himself from rolling his eyes.

"You take care, Ned. I'll be by later." Joe smiled at the young man and headed out the door, leaving Ned to the 'tender' mercies of the nurse.

'_This hospital stay is just going to be SO much fun!_' Ned could hear the sarcasm dripping from his mental voice. He never did get on well with overbearing mother hens and, even in the short time he'd known her, the nurse seemed to have all the required traits to qualify.

The smile slid off Joe's face as he shut the hospital door behind him. He couldn't stand child abuse and what these kids had endured was beyond the pale. The young man was badly hurt. His back had been ripped to shreds by the cuts from the whip. The whipping apparently wasn't a new experience, either. The doctor told Joe that there were hundreds of old scars littering the boy's body, front and back. One shoulder had been dislocated. X-rays had revealed two freshly fractured ribs and signs of several older fractures that had already healed. Fortunately, the two new fractures hadn't shifted and Ned wouldn't need any casts.

The memory loss troubled Joe more than anything. While it wasn't uncommon for victims to experience small periods of memory loss due to shock and injuries, it was always a concern. The physical injuries, he had been assured, would all heal. The doctors were less certain about any mental or emotion trauma that had certainly resulted from their uncle's 'care.'

The girls were both better and worse than their brother. Their physical injuries were minimal. They'd injured themselves trying to break out of the cage in the basement their uncle had locked them in. The young blond, who had identified herself as Sarah to the nurses, had deeply bruised her shoulder by ramming it repeatedly against the cage door while trying to get free. The young redhead, whom Sarah had identified as Jenny, had slightly bruised her shoulder and sprained her ankle on the rebound from ramming too hard against the door on her tenth or eleventh try. The nurses who had spoken with Sarah and examined both girls said that the girls bore very few older scars, unlike their brother. However, both girls refused point-blank to say a single word in Joe's presence. Since Sarah obviously didn't mind speaking to the female nurses, the reasons behind such silence greatly disquieted Joe.

The other disquieting aspect of all this was the sheer volume of blood, both in the yard where Ned and his uncle had been found and in the house. There was blood dried on the walls and floor of every room of the house. It didn't seem possible for all that blood to come from those three kids even with the scars from previous injuries. Joe had made certain that the lab was doing careful DNA testing to be certain that no one else had ever suffered Ned, Sarah, and Jenny's fate. Had he been a betting man, Joe would have put his entire paycheck down that all but the puddle underneath the uncle belonged to the kids. Still, better to run the DNA and make sure the uncle hadn't successfully killed someone, as well as nearly killing Ned.

There were still some aspects of this case that didn't quite add up. How the uncle managed to trip and die over twenty feet away from the boy was a bit of a mystery, but the investigators had deemed it irrelevant. After finding the whip in the man's hand and examining the boy's back, they'd been rather quick to deem the uncle's death an accident. With the way the boy had been chained spread eagle to the concrete slab, there was no way that he'd killed the uncle. The girls, having been locked in the cage in the basement, were equally incapable of killing the man. It all pointed to being an accident. Joe wasn't about to argue or complain; accident or not, the monster had deserved it. It did make for a mountain of paper work, though.

End chapter 2

AN -- Thanks for reading! The muse for the next chapter's being a bit more difficult than these past two, so it might take slightly longer for me to get the next chapter out. Please review and tell me what you think! It might make the muse more manageable. Thanks! HPFan23


	3. Revelations of Origin

Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine. If I owned Harry Potter, you'd get faster updates because I'd have more time, but then you'd have to pay for them.

Many thanks go to my wonderful and brilliant beta Novocain, without whom I never would have started writing this. She's also largely to thank for this chapter. I got very stuck.

Warnings: Mature content. Mentions of slash and mentions (never in explicit detail) of _attempted _rape on a minor. Please remember that the uncle never succeeded in these attempts. I do not advocate chan, rape, or child abuse. This IS fiction.

There's a very important AN at the end. Please read!!

'_Thoughts.' _"Speech."

Chapter 3 – Revelations of Origin

Ned groaned quietly as he repositioned himself in the hospital bed. The pain had gone down significantly in the last two weeks he'd spent at the hospital. The doctors ascribed the improvement to good pain medication. Ned, upon first hearing the doctor's say that, had half smiled and quipped, "Maybe it's magic." The focused bursts of magic he'd been carefully and periodically sending to help speed the healing of his wounds were the true cause of the decrease in pain. Naturally, he could hardly explain this to the doctors. He only understood the bare mechanics of it himself. The healing used to occur as one large burst of accidental healing magic that erased all evidence of his uncle's abuse. Uncle, however, did not approve. The subsequent punishments allowed Ned all the practice necessary to fine-tune and control his accidental magic. His control wasn't perfect, but it allowed him to improve 'remarkably fast.' It didn't relieve all the pain, though, especially after his physical therapy sessions.

"Is it better today?" came a voice from the doorway. "It looked like you'd improved a lot, at least from what I could see."

"Hi, Sarah." The affection in her voice had brought a warm smile to Ned's face. He couldn't help the slight relief he felt these days each time she entered the room. He kept having this disturbing feeling in the pit of his stomach that the Powers That Be would try to split them up. But that idea was simply ludicrous! He knew that Social Services liked to keep kids from a single family together. Besides, if he kept worrying about it the girls would notice and it would bother them. Things had just started to get better for them and he didn't want his slight paranoia to trouble the girls. He looked Sarah over as she walked further into the room and Jenny followed in behind her. Both girls were dressed in sweat pants and shirts. Sarah had pulled her long brown hair up into a ponytail. Jenny's short red hair was even curlier after getting slightly damp and sweaty from her workout in physical therapy. _'It's always a lot of work in PT, but they're certainly looking in better health.'_

The only reason he looked forward to physical therapy was that he was guaranteed to be allowed to see his sisters as they all had physical therapy together. If they did well, the nurses let the siblings visit for an hour or two. "I'm fine. Are you two all right? It looked like you were having some trouble with the shoulder exercises. And, Jenny, you looked like you were having a little trouble with your ankle exercises. You sprained it pretty badly. I'm surprised they let you up on it so early. I read it usually takes at least three weeks of keeping it elevated for it to heal completely." He watched them closely for any signs of pain as they both settled in the two chairs by his bed.

"The doctors decided the injury wasn't as bad as they first thought," Jenny said softly as she smiled at Ned. He frowned slightly at her in inquiry. She motioned slightly with her hand in the familiar movement of a healing spell. His expression cleared and he smiled back at her. She had always been exceptionally gifted in wandless magic. It helped that she didn't have the same restrictions on her magic as he did on his.

"How much longer do you think they'll keep us here?" asked Sarah. Both girls turned slightly in their chars to watch Ned. Ned glanced between the two and raised his eyebrows. Inside, he was laughing. These two always did this. They'd ask an important question that only an adult in charge could answer and the girls always acted like he'd know. It had become a game to anticipate the expected questions and get the answers from those in charge ahead of time.

"Why do you always assume I have the answers to those questions?" The girls continued to look at Ned silently. Because he knew they'd do this, Ned had made sure to question Joe on these very details the last time he'd visited after the nurse had sent the girls away, but before she'd made Joe leave. As much as he enjoyed this, he had to make sure that he acted appropriately put upon. It would ruin the game if he didn't. "Oh, fine." He huffed dramatically while leaning back and crossing his arms. "When I asked, the doctor assured me that it would only be two weeks longer at the most. I got the impression that they were more concerned with having missed something than that the injuries they know of warrant such a long stay. It occurs to me that they are overcompensating for the fact that no one believed us when we tried to tell them about Uncle by being extra careful with our health now. Personally, I'm more concerned with where they'll send us when we leave." He wasn't a know-it-all. He wasn't! He just felt it was important to have an idea of what was going on with everyone around him.

"Good point," Jenny murmured pensively. "Any ideas?" She had always been very quiet. That fact was especially true around adults. Ned blamed their uncle. The nurses were working on getting her to speak more with grownups. There hadn't been much success from their perspective, but Jenny had become fiercely defensive of the nurses. Ned and Sarah were careful not to complain about them in front of Jenny.

"I suppose they'll want to send us to an orphanage. I was planning to ask Officer Knoll when he stops by about what our options are – all of them. I'm hoping they'll let us stay with one of the kids from school. I know Rey would take us in, but I've no idea how to get a message to him."

"That may not be necessary." The three teens turned at the sound of the voice and found Joe standing in the doorway. "The nurses told me the three of you would be in here. How are you? You look better then you did when I visited last week."

"We're feeling much better, thank you, Officer," Ned said softly.

"Now, Ned, I've told you to call me Joe." He smiled as he walked farther into the room and sat down in the only chair left by the foot of the bed.

"My apologies." The young man didn't sound particularly sorry despite the formality and the nod. "You, however, are changing the subject. Don't tell me there's another obscure relative of our mom's that you intend to send us to." It wasn't quite a question. The girls sat in tense silence watching the conversation.

"It's slightly more complicated than that." Joe sighed. He wished he had some coffee. "We tested the DNA from the blood in the house. It just didn't seem possible that so much blood could come from three still living teens."

"Perhaps not, but that is what happened." Ned's tone was cool and distant. He didn't like having it implied that he was hiding something, not when he'd been completely honest and especially not when a death was involved.

"So we discovered. However, we also found something else." Joe paused to rub his forehead with one hand. He leaned forward and continued. "There was a missing person's alert that came up under your name, Ned." Ned's face went utterly blank in his surprise. "When your name came up but the girls' didn't, they crosschecked the DNA of all three of you. None of you are related."

"But we're triplets. Family." Jenny's voice was barely audible, but it still managed to briefly shock Joe, who had yet to actually hear her speak.

Joe looked at her compassionately. "I've often found in my line of work that the family you make can be just as strong, or stronger in some cases, as the family you're born into."

"Do you . . . know anything at all about my," Ned paused and licked his lips, "my family?" It was a doubly difficult question to ask. On the one hand, Ned had grown up thinking of Jenny, Sarah, and Alex as his only true family. His uncle had never been acknowledged as anything more than kin. The girls were very close to him, and it was never questioned in the past that they were anything but triplets. He thought of them as extensions of himself. They were his heart. Alex, though unrelated, was the brother of his soul and more, though never in the romantic sense. It still hurt to think of him, after Uncle . . . 'You cannot change the past. The present is what it is and the future will not be something you can control unless you ground yourself in the here and now – and even then, it's doubtful.' Ned could almost hear Alex's voice repeat those often spoken words. Even though it hurt, Ned could not forget him.

"I wish I did." Joe's voice cut through Ned's thoughts. "I only just found out about it. The entire matter was handed over to Child Protective Services. They'll be taking over from here on out. I didn't even get to find out what your real name is. I'm sorry. The office had planned to send them over to tell you this and introduce you to your parents. I had to argue with them for a good while to be allowed to come and tell you this personally before they brought your folks in. I didn't want you to be blindsided. I also didn't think it was right for them to bring in your folks after you just learned you had them."

"That was incredibly thoughtful of you, thank you," Sarah solemnly stated. Ned could hear the stress in her words. It wasn't the tone, but the rather unnatural formality of it that gave away the stress Sarah felt. Sarah was only ever so formal when she was stressed. Jenny was unsurprisingly silent. One of her hands had come up to play with one of the short red curls of her hair.

"What will happen to the girls?" Ned refused to leave them on their own. They'd always faced all of their troubles and fears as a trio; a team. He wouldn't abandon them to an orphanage. Not without a fight, anyway. _'No, not an orphanage. I've heard of those – just no. Rey would still take us in, though. I wish Alex were here.' _ It was the first time he'd let himself wish for Alex since that night.

"That's being looked into. While we can't find a match in the database using DNA and fingerprints, that doesn't mean they aren't there." Joe turned to the girls, "We're trying to use the time period of when Ned was taken from his parents to get a better idea of who you might be. It's proving difficult, however, as we don't know for certain when the two of you were taken. It could have been a week between his kidnapping and yours or it could have been five years."

"Two," Jenny whispered, her distress apparent. Sarah moved her chair closer to Jenny's and wrapped an arm around her in comfort. All the weight they'd gained, all the improvement they'd made in their health seemed to bleed right out of them. They were both pale and looked rather gaunt. Ned gazed at them unblinking for a time, losing himself in recalling how very good they'd looked only an hour ago.

"I'm sorry?" Joe asked.

"Two years." Jenny clarified, "It could only be two years. We were three years old when we were sent to live with uncle."

"Thank you. That narrows the search field considerably." Joe was relieved on this point. There were far too many kidnappings that occurred about ten years ago. It made these situations incredibly trying.

"How long do we have?" Ned's voice was hollow. He felt hollow. Later he would remark on how truly strange and dreadfully morbid the question sounded. At the moment, the morbid aspect seemed fitting at the moment. It almost felt like something inside had died. He nearly snorted at such a cliché thought. '_Get a grip_.' He knew he needed to, but for some reason, it was incredibly difficult to do at the moment. His thoughts were everywhere. Though he'd always wished to have his parents, he'd never even considered that he would have to lose the girls to gain them. He wasn't sure he wanted the trade. His heart clenched tight in his chest. He had to prevent himself from screaming, though he felt it would match the howling inside his head.

Joe tried to smile for the kids and failed. "I talked them into waiting until tomorrow. I wish I–"

"Thank you." Ned cut him off. It didn't matter what anyone wished, it would happen. "I don't mean to be rude, but I would like to spend some time alone with Jenny and Sarah. I don't know how my parents will feel about my relationship with the girls, and I want to spend as much time with them as I can. Just in case-" There was too many ways to end that statement. 'In case I'm never allowed to see them again,' 'in case they don't approve of us,' 'in case we need to run away.' This last thought almost made him smile. After all, it wouldn't do to plan an escape in front of the very person in charge of bringing them back. Ned wasn't sure what he'd be facing with his parents. They had known what to expect from his . . . non-uncle and they'd thought there was no choice. After telling several key adults about the abuse uncle had inflicted on them and experiencing the after effects of those attempts, they had given up hope of getting away from Uncle. This time, they would choose. He'd give his parents a chance, but if it didn't look like a better situation than what uncle had provided than he wouldn't stay. But he needed to discuss with the girls what they'd do 'just in case.' In order to do that, they needed to be alone.

"Certainly," Joe agreed. He tried to keep his tone soothing. He hated having to tell these children that it was possible they'd be split up. Of course, while he wasn't officially involved with the case, he could do his best to impress upon Ned's new folks the importance the girls played in Ned's life. Provided, of course, he could obtain information on whom exactly Ned's folks were. "I'll leave you to talk." Joe stood from his chair and left the room, closing the door behind him to ensure their privacy. He needed to go do some digging at the office.

Ned sat up straighter in the bed and crossed his legs Indian style. With his arms he gestured the girls on to the bed and closer. This would be hard. Ned hoped silently that, should it become necessary, Rey wouldn't mind uninvited guests dropping in unexpectedly. Then again, knowing Rey, he'd probably encourage it.

End Chapter 3

AN – The previous two chapters have been checked over by my beta once more and are now reposted with improvements! Praise to my most fabulous beta Novocain!!! IMPORTANT – You now have the opportunity to guess the identity of the three teens! The person who reviews and offers the correct guess will get a cookie (which, in this case, is an honorable mention in chapter 4). Please drops to her knees and begs review and tell me what you think! grins


	4. 4 Meet the Parents

Disclaimer – Oh, sure! It's mine – NOT!! Harry Potter belongs strictly to J K Rowling. Warner Bros. owns the movies. I mess with the characters purely for my and my insanely gorgeous (not to mention incomparably brilliant) beta Novocain's entertainment. Much kudos goes out to Novocain for this chapter. I had a very hard time with the dialogue between Ned and his parents. I couldn't have done this without her.

Special mention, as promised, goes to Lemnicka for correctly guessing Ned's identity. Bonus points are giving for being the first person to review that is not my beta. (Hands over virtual!home-made sugar cookies and three dozen virtual balloons as prize)

Second special mention goes to AchillesMonkey, who generously took the time to point out the fact that I'd mixed up the chapter order when I tried to fix the grammar. (Hands over virtual!home-made fudge and giant "Thankyou!" card)

Chapter 4 – Meet the Parents

Ned wasn't nervous. No, he wasn't nervous, and he wasn't anxious either. He had always been very careful with his emotions. Too easily they could become a weapon to be used against him. Uncle had certainly demonstrated this fact. In fact, Uncle had taken every opportunity to very successfully prove to Ned that displaying emotions in front of people wasn't wise. He had learned while quite young how to push his emotions aside and focus on survival. It was something he'd had a lot of practice doing and thus was very good at. So why the hell was he currently vibrating off of his chair, unable to focus on any one thing for longer than seven seconds? Yes, seven seconds. He had _counted_.

Ned bit off another growl before he could vocalize it and slouched further in his chair. It had been three days since Joe had warned him about his parents' upcoming visit. He and the girls had come up with several fall back plans in case this meeting didn't look like it would go their way. Jenny kept telling Ned that if he got any negative vibes from or about 'those people' then they would find a way to lose them and meet up at Alex's old place. From there, they would go to Rey's house. Sarah insisted that they give the 'new parents' a chance. Ned had already decided that if they wouldn't even consider bringing the girls with them, they weren't worth the trouble. It was hard to trust people. Ned didn't care how hard it was not to trust people, either.

Of course, Ned liked to think he didn't trust people. Well, not all people. He trusted the girls. He trusted Alex. Perhaps the rule was merely restricted to grownups. But that wasn't quite it either. Rey was definitely a grownup; no one would argue otherwise. Rey held more of Ned's trust than the majority of his classmates at school. Ned and the girls even had their own rooms at Rey's place for whenever they were there. Rey even made sure to keep descent clothes for Ned and the girls in their closets. Nice, clean, whole, _new_ clothes. In fact, Ned's favorite jacket was there. Uncle never had cared about clothing the three of them. Ned grimaced. Most of their clothes at Uncle's house were rejected donated clothing, salvaged from trashcans behind the Goodwill store in town. Ned and the girls had definitely come to appreciate the value of new clothes. They'd even come to appreciate the value in slightly used but freely and cheerfully given clothes, like those given to Ned, Sarah, and Jenny from their slightly more affluent friends at school.

He fiddled with the right leg of his new sweatpants and glanced at the door at the end of the hall. Joe had been kind enough to bring Ned sweatpants and a tee-shirt to wear so he wouldn't have to face his parents in the clothes the hospital provided. Joe had been extremely apologetic about bringing Ned only sweatpants when he found out what Ned wanted them for - Joe had thought Ned wanted them for his physical fitness exercises. Ned had half-smiled and explained that with the stress already present in such a situation, he preferred to wear something comfortable. As he sat there looking at the door and waiting for his parents to come in after their talk with the doctor, Ned couldn't help but wish that he'd let Joe find him something dressier as the police officer had first insisted.

He sighed. Wishing once again that his parents didn't have to speak with the doctor first, Ned returned to his earlier contemplation of the hall floor. Yep, three hundred and seventy-five floor tiles, one hundred and twenty-five of which were black and two hundred and fifty of which were white. It hadn't changed since the last three times he'd counted them. He wasn't bored though. No. Nor was he anxious. Despite feeling like he was vibrating off the seat of his chair, every time he'd picked up his cup of water to take a sip and check his nerves the cup was nicely stable – not trembling at all. The problem was that having the doctor speak with Ned's parents first and alone meant that they received their first impressions about him from the doctor and from a doctor's point of view. It revoked Ned's ability to control their first impression. Now they would see a wounded and deeply scarred little boy first, and whatever Ned wanted to portray second – maybe.

What-ifs weren't Ned's favorite conversation topic. He usually thought them time consuming and worthless. To Ned's profound irritation, he found it very difficult to avoid that topic now. He was given reprieve, however, when the door opened at the end of the hall. Two people, a man and a woman, entered with the doctor. The man was tall with black hair and hazel eyes, and the lady was slightly shorter with long auburn locks and green eyes. They both appeared pasty and upset, though Ned thought he saw a hint of...was that hope in their expressions?

"Horton Rook." Ned winced as the doctor used his 'proper' name. He'd managed to convince Joe and all the nurses to use the shortened version of his nickname, but the doctor wouldn't budge. "I'd like to introduce you to James and Lily Potter."

The pale couple smiled shakily at Ned. Ned had to assume the doctor had done an unnecessarily thorough job of detailing all of his injuries, past and present. The scars on his back, shoulders, and chest that were a result of his uncle's 'tender' care had been of extreme interest to the medical staff. They had also been intensely interested in the scars around Ned's waist, wrists, ankles, abdomen, and throat. Of course, the nurses and doctors were extremely careful not to bring the topic up after the first time they'd asked about it. Ned had not reacted well. However, the medical staff had been far more insistent, not to mention subtle, about the issue of Ned and the girls' extreme gauntness. There was no way the annoying doctor had refrained from telling Ned's new 'folks' all the gory details of his previous care. He sincerely hoped they didn't decide he needed therapy.

The lady - _No, Mrs. Potte_r - stepped forward and knelt in front of the chair Ned was still sitting stiffly in. They gazed steadily into each other's eyes. Green met green, each searching for answers to their unanswerable questions. Mrs. Potter's gaze was gentle and warm. Ned had encountered plenty of grownups whose gazes were harsh and cruel, buy even with this short encounter, Ned felt sure this woman meant him no harm.

She smiled suddenly and her entire face lit up.

"Harry!" she breathed. It was his name. It had to be. He tipped his head to one side and found he liked the name. He'd always loathed the old name he'd been taught to believe was his. Have you any idea what people can do with the name Horton Rook? Rook the Crook, Horton Who, Horton the Elephant. Ned truly hated Dr. Seuss some days. Uncle had often shortened it to Hore. Or was it whore? He shook off the thought and snorted mentally; he would have to start thinking of himself with his new name. Of course, he hadn't chosen Ned as his nickname. He preferred the name Nedjwi. The trouble was that nearly everyone who knew the nickname always shortened it to Ned. Even his sisters - _no, not my sisters_ - did, to his frustration and amusement. The only one who ever called him Nedjwi was Alex. And Ned couldn't... Harry shook away the thought – and the memories.

Harry smiled hesitantly back at her. "Hi, Mrs. Potter." He wasn't quite sure what else to call her. He wasn't quite comfortable calling her 'Mum', and even if he knew her first name, he felt it wasn't respectful enough. Uncle had ensured Harry's eternal outward respect for adults.

He never could do anything about Harry's inward respect.

The staring contest was interrupted by James' hand landing on his wife's shoulder. Harry followed the hand up the arm, past the shoulder to the man's face. There were worry lines around the man's shadowed eyes, and he carried himself in a very solemn manner. It almost looked like something had sucked all the happiness from his life, leaving a vacuum in its wake. However, it seemed the man was genuinely happy to see him. There was a tiny spark in the center of his eyes and when James smiled it lifted half the lines from his face, making him look years younger. It was a very unusual situation for Harry. With few exceptions, most people did not light up at the mere sight of him.

"Hello, Harry." James' voice was rough. The emotion contained in two short words boggled the mind. It contained welcome, anxiety, exhaustion, warmth, stress, and love. Harry's answering smile was hesitant but genuine. He couldn't quite get a verbal answer to form past the tightness in his throat. He wanted this to go well. He'd always wanted parents. This desire warred with the lessons from Uncle that taught against trusting adults of any sort. Harry wasn't sure which side of him would win out in the end, but there was plenty of time before that was decided.

"The doctors tell us you're eager to get out of here." Mrs. Potter's voice shook as she spoke. "I think we'd all be more comfortable if we continued this conversation at home. Besides, I have a nurse friend that I would like to have over so she can give you one more look-over, if you're willing. Do you have anything here that you'd like to bring with you?"

Harry caste his eyes to the floor. He really didn't want to use his parents' obviously raw emotions to get his way, but he really couldn't see any other way. A tear rolled down his cheek. "I, uh - " He stopped. He couldn't manipulate them like this. It wasn't right. _Neither is leaving the girls to rot in an orphanage._ A hand abruptly came into his line of vision, reaching for his cheek. Reflex and years of living with his uncle caused Harry to jerk away from the approaching open palm, stammering apologies.

"Oh, Harry!" The voice contained so much sadness that it made Harry want to cry. He felt himself drawn into a pair of warm, comforting arms. It was such a wonderful feeling, being held. It didn't happen often. It showed too much weakness and was too similar to being held down. Harry snapped out of his 'moment' and pulled himself carefully from his mother's hold. She let him go with obvious reluctance, watching him with deepest concern. "What was it you were going to ask?"

Her son (her son!) started, "What's going to happen to Jenny and Sa-Sarah?" His voice cracked at the end, and her heart went out to him. "They're - they've been my sisters all my life, and I... I love them." Lily didn't even have to consider - James could go have fun with his broomstick if he tried to argue with her. The girls were coming with them.

She turned slightly to look over her shoulder at her husband. James tore his gaze away from their son to look briefly at her expression. He returned his gaze to his son. "I'll take care of it." Harry tilted his head slightly to one side; that had sounded like a promise. He'd learned very early in life that promises weren't always to be trusted.

Mrs. Potter smiled up at Harry from her kneeling position in front of him. "Don't worry. James will make sure the girls come home with us. He has a gift with medical professionals. Something to do with how he bats his big, brown eyes at the nurses seems to do wonders with getting his way. It's worked ever since we were at Hogw -" She cut herself off briefly, then restarted, "-since we were at school together."

"Hogwarts," Harry whispered. The doctor had long since left the three of them alone to talk; when, Harry hadn't noticed. It never hurt to be extra conscious when dealing with the Statute of Secrecy, however. "You and Mr. Potter went to Hogwarts." His mother's eyes searched his face. He guessed she was wondering about his knowledge of the magical world, since Harry and the girls obviously didn't go to Hogwarts. "The girls – Sarah, Jenny, and I – we all go to St. Marvin's School for Underprivileged Witches and Wizards. We'll all be starting our fifth year this coming September."

Mrs. Potter smiled tremulously back at him. "I'm glad. Perhaps when we get home we can talk about the possibility of transferring you and the girls to Hogwarts this fall." Harry glanced away from his mother's face – her hopeful eyes. While hardly the best school, leaving St. Marvin's also meant leaving the friends he had there. Why did it matter where he got his education, so long as he received one? "I, uh. I'd like it if you were there. I teach Arithmancy at Hogwarts. A-after all these years, um, I'd really like to have you close by for a – well, for a while." Harry smiled at his mother. It was a nice feeling to be wanted, to have a guardian desire the opportunity to be with you and keep you close. He'd have to talk it over with the girls. Maybe, just maybe, they'd all be able to go to Hogwarts this fall.

End Chapter 4

An – There is still an opportunity to guess the identities for Sarah and Jenny. (Hints available upon request – I do check email sent to the address on my author's page.) More virtual!prizes and special mentions will be given to the new guessers as well as early confirmation or reply by email (provided the reviewer is logged in or offers email address). I try to respond to each review and, so far, I've managed to succeed. (Grins.) The next chapter may not be available before Christmas, but I'll try to have another done close to New Years.


	5. 5 Big Secrets and Small Betrayals

Disclaimer: Not mine. It belongs to the brilliant British lady. (Weeps pitifully)

And here, for your reading pleasure, is Chapter 5!! (crickets chirping) Okay, I know I've been gone for a while, but honestly, I'm not about to abandon this fic! I doubt Novocain will let me, considering the number of times I bug her for help. I really aught to consider putting her as co-author. You'd never get anything descent without her, you know. Good looking, brilliant, highly talented lady that she is!

Oh, before I forget, special thanks and virtual!cookies go to Jericho for his review. Please note that if you sign in or leave an email address I do send personal messages with thank you notes and sneak peeks for the future.

Chapter 5 – Big Secrets and Small Betrayals

Lily Potter stifled a sob as she gently placed the tea cup in the dish drainer with shaking hands. She paused a moment to close her eyes to regain control while clenching her hands in an effort to keep them from shaking. Her baby was in the sitting room. Her son had just sat down to tea with her and James for the first time in fourteen years. Well, they had obviously never given him tea as a baby, but they had always made certain he had a biscuit to chew on while she and James had tea. He'd grown so much!

Her baby was fifteen and afraid of them. She could see it in the hospital when Harry flinched away from James' hand. She saw it in the parlor when they first brought him and the girls home and her son sat so he could see the floo, the door, and all the people in the room. She saw it over tea in how the two girls her son considered family sat on either side of him, insulating him from the rest of the room. She saw it in his careful, though casual, inspection of the tea and biscuits before consuming any of it. Her baby, her Harry, was afraid of them.

Not for the first time did Lily wonder at the wisdom of having Albus and Severus bring over the Herencia potion today "just to be certain." Lily sniffed. She could see the sense in James's argument, but they didn't have to spring it on the kids so soon. It could have waited until the kids were more comfortable and her son wasn't so afraid. Of course, there was no telling how long that would take. Especially with how wary her Harry was acting.

She growled mentally. She'd been friends with Severus since childhood. She fancied she knew him quite well and knew what to expect from him. If Severus Snape dared to scare her son further with his snarky, snappy, high-handed, belligerent manner, she'd give his floo address to Sirius!

Lily sighed and reached into the dishwater to unplug the drain. It did no good to get angry over something that hadn't even happened yet. Even if she knew it would - that Severus' character would allow for no less. She loved the man and could honestly say she didn't want to change him, but she simply couldn't endure the idea of watching her son go through any more fear or pain. She watched the last of the dishwater drain from the sink and turned away from the sink, walking to the doorway of the kitchen and making her way toward the living room and her son.

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Harry heard Lily Potter's footsteps returning from the kitchen. He did not shift his attentive study of James Potter to watch her come into the room. He'd had ample time to observe her over tea and had decided long before tea was over that she was not a threat. She obviously believed Harry to be her son and her every action was focused on putting him at ease. Normally this wouldn't have eliminated her as a threat, but after everything else that had happened, he couldn't summon the energy necessary to be completely suspicious of everyone. Better to focus on those more likely to cause trouble.

'Of course, exceptions can always be made,' Harry thought as the fire in the fireplace flared green and a tall, severe man smoothly stepped out, sneering and looking thoroughly disgusted to be there. The newcomer was almost immediately followed out of the still green fire by an old man with an incredibly... eccentric wardrobe. Electric green robes with neon pink bunnies that hopped across the fabric? What sane individual with any descent vision and/or fashion sense would ever wear such a thing?

Harry flicked his gaze up from his inspection of the man's wardrobe to the man's face. He found himself crossing gazes with twinkling blue eyes. Almost immediately, he felt the subtle brush across his mind that signaled the use of legilimency. He immediately snapped his gaze away, hunched his shoulders, and backed up a step.

"Do you normally greet abused minors in what is purportedly their own home by raping their mind before even being introduced?" The chill in his tone was biting on glacial levels. The girls, in response to his body language, had already stepped back with him. With his statement, he felt them stiffen and shift slightly so as to not cross gazes accidentally. They had found it to be more difficult to look someone directly in the eyes when you were turned so one of your shoulders faced them, forcing you to turn your head to watch the person. It also helped to offer a smaller target, should it be necessary. "Not only is it illegal to invade the minds of minors with out both their guardians and their own consent, it's also damn rude!"

James had shifted awkwardly when the sneering, severe looking man had entered the room and appeared to be watching the man intently while mostly ignoring the older, ruder gentleman. After Harry's statement, James stiffened considerably and watched both newcomers in his sitting room, his wand appearing rather suddenly in his hand. Lily, on the other hand, reacted rather opposite her husband.

"What?!" Lily shrieked incredulously. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, how DARE you attack my son!" Harry did not take his eyes off of Dumbledore, but watched in his peripheral vision as Lily Potter took an aggressive step toward the headmaster, wand in hand. She stopped only when Dumbledore lifted his wandless hands in a placating manner and apologized.

"I do beg your pardon." His voice was soft and sounded sincere. Harry didn't believe him for a moment. Harry had found that most apologies came because they were sorry to have been caught, not for the act itself, but Lily paused and softened her glare slightly and James relaxed a little. "Though you now know my name, allow me to properly introduce myself: I am Albus Dumbledore. My companion is Severus Snape."

Harry flicked his eyes briefly to the tall, severe looking man. "Potions Master Snape? Inventor of the Wolfsbane potion?" He waited for the man's answer. The man barely jerked his head slightly in a nod. "It's an honor to meet you. My potions study group at school had to do an analysis of the Wolfsbane potion for our final paper last year. Our homework this summer was to come up with ideas for improvising the rarer, more expensive ingredients for more common ones without harming the werewolf taking the potion. We've come up with a couple of ideas. If you're willing, and have the time, we'd appreciate the opportunity to discuss it with you." Harry knew it wasn't considered entirely polite to carry on a conversation with one person while staring at another, but he felt Dumbledore was currently the biggest threat in the room. Despite that, he didn't miss the raised eyebrows of his mother and Potions Master Snape. Nor did he fail to notice the look James Potter shot Harry at the relatively warm reception Harry had offered Snape.

"If you are attempting to kiss up to me, Potter," the Potions Master growled with a sneer, "I suggest you stop before embarrassing yourself. I am only here to provide the Herencia potion."

"Of course, sir. I apologize for taking up your time." Harry uttered the apology while keeping his vision focused on Dumbledore's beard. This view allowed him to watch both of the man's arms, and his gaze was trained high enough to watch his expression while avoiding his eyes. Harry would worry about Potion Master Snape's snarky attitude later. Judging from the way Snape and James were glaring at each other, Harry theorized that Snape's attitude had much more to do with the relations between Snape and James than anything Harry had yet said. Better to remain respectful and back off. Besides, Dumbledore was the one who had attacked him. Snape was an abrupt man with a sharp tongue, but he was currently focused on setting up the Herencia potion for use on the table at the far wall, ignoring everything else in the room.

"Potter!" Or perhaps he wasn't ignoring everyone. Harry continued watching Dumbledore but flicked his eyes to Snape in order to see which Potter the man meant. It was impossible to tell, since the man stood with his back facing the room.

"What, Snape? I thought you only needed a drop of Harry's blood for this to work." James' voice sounded irritated and impatient.

The man growled, "Not you, Potter! The brat." Harry raised an eyebrow at the 'nickname.' It didn't bother him nearly as much as he was sure Snape had expected. He'd been called worse by his 'uncle' for most of his life. The term brat truly didn't trouble him all that much.

"Yes, sir?" Harry questioned softly, still facing Dumbledore.

"Get over here, Potter. The sooner I add your blood to this potion and we confirm your heritage the faster I can leave this... house." Harry nearly snorted in amusement. The only reason Harry could see that Snape had stopped with merely the word 'house' was Lily Potter's rather menacing glare. Harry paused until he felt Sarah and Jenny each brush a hand lightly against his arm before moving towards Snape. The girls would keep an eye on Dumbledore and watch Harry's back.

Harry stepped quietly across the room to the Potions Master's side. A hand snapped out to grab Harry's wrist, causing him to flinch away and bring both arms up slightly to protect his chest. While he couldn't control his reflexive flinches, he'd so far been able to hide his slight proficiency at muggle martial arts from all the grownups he'd yet encountered. Except for those he'd needed to use his abilities on, of course. Not to say that he was a master at the skill; not at all. He'd never had any formal training. Everything he knew was from a book and watching television.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Snape reached slowly for Harry's wrist. Harry focused immediately on the man's face. Expressionless black eyes glittered at him from behind a curtain of greasy black hair. Snape slowly, but carefully moved the wrist he held over to one of the three vials of Herencia potion. Holding up the needle for Harry to see first, Snape then carefully pricked Harry's index finger and held Harry's hand over the vial and let the drop of blood fall in. Harry pulled his released wrist back to himself, ignoring the small sting of his finger. He watched as Snape gently swirled the fluid in the vial then poured the potion onto the waiting piece of paper. Lines appeared across the paper as it started mapping his family tree.

Harry felt Lily and James move closer to him so they could better see the results of the potion. He felt Lily gently rested her hand against his shoulder. He noticed that she had moved closer when he'd flinch away from Snape, possibly so she could step in. Thankfully, Severus had realized his mistake and was far more careful when reaching for him the second time, making it unnecessary. From how she was acting, he guessed that she truly believed him to be her son. He assumed that, in her case, the potion was only a formality. And there on the paper was the confirmation. Harry James Potter, son of Lily Evans Potter and James Potter. He was home. He hoped.

------------------

Severus Snape merely inclined his head to the family with a softly sneered, "Welcome home, Potter." He then turned to the two girls standing and watching Dumbledore. He mentally smirked. The careful scrutiny by the children served the headmaster right for his slip up with the Potter boy. He addressed the girl with short red hair. "Well?" Her head snapped over to look at him. "I don't wish to give my entire day to devote to this pointless exercise. Both of you - come over here so we can get this over with."

He watched bemusedly as the two girls looked first at Harry-bloody-Potter before moving forward and offering their hands so Snape could collect the final ingredient. He did so efficiently before pouring the separate portions onto the two papers, carefully keeping track of which girl belonged to which parchment. He stepped slightly to one side so the girls could move closer and he could still see the paper. He noted with amusement that the Potter brat had gone back to his careful observation of the headmaster. It seemed that Dumbledore would be paying for his initial thoughtless act against that boy for a long time. In fact, Snape doubted that Albus would be able to build any semblance of trust with the brat for a very long time. He was pulled from his contemplation of Dumbledore and the Potter brat's potential relationship (or lack thereof) by two soft gasps from the girls. He turned to look at the parchments and was unable to prevent his own gasp of shock at the revealed identities.

"By Merlin!" Snape breathed.

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AN – Special virtual cookies to those who can guess the identity of either of the two girls. Special mention will be given to anyone, provided they guess, no matter how wild the guess may be. Winners will be specially mentioned at the start of the next chapter. If the winner is logged in, they will receive advance notice by email and I will attempt to answer any questions posed about past/present/future events.

My apologies for taking so long to get this written and posted. I had finished the part with Lily in the kitchen within a week after posting the last chapter and thought it wouldn't take much to get this chapter out. The scene with Dumbledore and Harry was quite difficult to write. It vexed me. It'll probably be a while before the next scene is out. I'm having difficulty coming up with how I want to write Sarah and Jenny's family reunions. . . . Blast it! And now I've given you a hint. Reviews might help to speed the creative juices along!


	6. The Makings of Family

Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long. I haven't been able to get in touch with my beta, Novocain, so sadly this is unbetaed. If you find a problem please let me know.

Chapter 6 – The Makings of Family

_Harry slammed his shoulder against the door of the shed. After the initial gasp of pain, the accompanying wince, the mental cursing, and the additional bruises, Harry backed up and prepared to repeat the action. It was getting harder to do so, however. He'd been engaged in throwing himself full force at the door for the past hour. He winced as he hit the door again. He was certain that by this point he had bruises on top of bruises. Stopping wasn't really an option, though. He'd promised, after all. _

"_Ah!" He hadn't shouted. No, certainly not. Harry couldn't prevent the cry, though it had only barely escaped through his clenched teeth. He'd landed wrong against the door. _

"_Stop!" Alex's voice came from inside the large, metal dog crate in the center of the room. "Please, Ned, don't hurt yourself. I told you, I won't permit you to come to harm. Please! If you'd just let me-"_

"_No!" Harry cut him off. "I know this door isn't all that strong. I'm certain I can break it down and get out. The girls and I have done it before. It'll be fine. Hang in there, ok?"_

"_Ned, moonrise is nearly here. I refuse to hurt you. Please. Just hand me my jacket. I put some arsenic into a little container."_

"_Arsenic?! You idiot! I didn't provoke Uncle into nearly beating me into an early grave just to get him to let me try to brew that thrice damned Wolfsbane Potion only for you to drink a __slow acting__ poison." Harry sighed and moved away from the door. He stumbled into the side of the crate, then turned and sat down leaning against the wall so he could face his friend. The bruises he'd spent the last several hours earning in his battle against the shed door ached abominably. Adding his new hurts to the injuries Harry had received from his uncle, and it was safe to say that he was in a lot of pain. Harry had not exaggerated when he'd stated that his uncle had almost killed him. "Besides, I'm nearly positive I brewed it right. I followed all the steps to the letter. It was the right color and consistency described in the book."_

"_Then why the hell are you trying to break your shoulder against the door? If you brewed it right than there shouldn't be a problem."_

"_I'm only nine years old, Lex. The only people who've ever properly brewed that potion before have all been over thirty and all of them were potion masters. Besides which, I'm a novice. This is the first potion I've ever brewed."_

"_You always did favor the all or nothing approach." Alex grinned, though the humor wasn't reflected in his eyes like it normally was. "If this goes well, I doubt you'll have as much trouble in potions class." _

"_I doubt it'll help as much as you think." Harry closed his eyes wearily. He was exhausted. The potion had taken forever to brew. He also hadn't been sleeping well ever since Uncle had told him the conditions under which he'd permit Alex to live. It would have been easier to be certain of the viability of the potion if Uncle had stopped beating him (with his great-grandfather's horse-whip, no less) at random times each day since issuing this challenge._

_Uncle had met them at the house the morning after the full moon. Possessing a vindictive grin and a shotgun with silver bullets, Uncle had demanded to know who the new rabid cub was. After hours of crying, screaming, ranting, cursing, beating, and lashing, Uncle had informed Harry that the only way he wouldn't shoot Alex between the eyes was if Alex started taking the new Wolfsbane Potion. Of course, Uncle didn't know the name of the potion. Never mind that the potion was extremely new and fairly untested, having just recently been published in the main potions journals around the world. He'd merely seen the rather controversial Daily Profit article announcing the discovery of the potion._

_Naturally, Uncle failed to mention until this evening that the __second__ condition was that __Harry__ had to spend the night in the shed with Alex to ensure the potion's effectiveness. Alex had gone pasty white at this announcement. He had then demanded the inclusion of the large dog cage. Uncle had hardly objected. _ _Harry theorized that the only reason Uncle had agreed was because he'd decided this was a better form of torture. And there was little else Uncle loved more than torturing his charges. What was worse than being forced to make an impossible potion to help your friend that, if made wrong could poison him? Knowing that said friend only needed the potion because he'd taken your place made the situation even more intolerable. Then to watch your friend be locked into a small cage that is humanly impossible to escape without a key_, _but would most definitely snap against the power of the wolf with little trouble was terrifying. The _coup de gras_ was that, if Harry had made the potion properly, than there was no reason to be afraid. If he'd made a mistake, he'd be eaten alive by his best friend during the insanity. His friend would then regain his mind the next morning and likely die of grief. Especially since the very idea seemed enough to force Lexi to contemplate suicide._

_Harry suddenly focused all of his attention on his squirming friend. Alex had suddenly started doing a lot more than just squirming. Harry pulled his legs in and wrapped his arms around them, staring in fascination and concern at his long-time friend and almost-brother. Alex's face, torso, and limbs stretched, lengthened, and sprouted hair._

_The large cage snapped and fell like a house of cards. Alex, or what had been Alex, stretched up to his highest and screamed. It was hard to tell whether it was out of pain or rage. It was probably both, Harry mused. He wasn't sure yet if the potion had worked. If it had, then, again, there was nothing to worry about. If it hadn't, then Harry was more worried about what Alex would do to himself come morning than he was about himself. He'd find out if it worked in a minute._

_Alex fell to all fours and shook himself. Harry tried his best to lay still. It wouldn't help anything to startle his friend into an attack out of reflex. Alex always had swung first and asked questions later; better not to surprise him. Provided, of course, that it was still Alex. Alex's nose twitched as he scented the air. The large wolf swung his head in Harry's direction, eyes glowing in the dim light. Its lips curled up, showing huge, vicious fangs. Harry stared._

--

Harry bolted upright in his bed, covered in sweat. His eyes darted frantically around the room, and he found himself bunching up the sheets in his fists. It took him awhile to place where he was, even though he'd lived with his parents for eight days. Harry glanced at his alarm clock to check the time. Well, actually, nine days if you wanted to be really picky. Harry sighed and placed his head in his hands. Nine days without the girls. Nine nights of nightmares.

It had been an incredibly stressful week. Neither of the girls were actually Harry's sister. Nor were they related to each other. Jenny was actually Ginevra Weasley, youngest of seven children and the only daughter. Sarah was really Susan Bones, orphaned single child of the late Richard and Serena Bones. It felt to Harry as if , in gaining his forever longed for family, that he'd lost something equally as precious. Of course, he hadn't completely lost the girls. Harry's parents had been incredibly understanding of the longstanding bond the three children had harbored and sought to encourage the children to maintain their friendship. It wasn't to be that easy, however.

They had tried to set up a formal meet and greet so the three could get to know the other's families. Amelia Bones, Susan's aunt, had been incredible. She came over for the invited tea and stayed through dinner, reacquainting herself with her niece and got to know Harry. She took the whole week off work and spent the entire next day with her niece and took turns coming to the Potters for dinner and inviting them to her/their home to eat. She tried very hard to get to know her niece's friend and one-time family. The last time they'd gotten to see each other, just two days ago, Susan admitted to being very happy at her aunt's.

On the other hand, the Weasleys outright refused and had secluded themselves and their daughter. They'd been very rude and condescending, practically accusing Harry and the Potters of trying to steal their little girl. Harry could sympathize with them to a point; they had, after all, just found their long-lost baby girl, their only daughter and youngest child. He was, however, more than a little insulted that they were so short-sighted and self-absorbed as to think they were the only ones who had suffered a loss. That they thought he was 'in' on the supposed conspiracy was utterly outrageous and infuriating. Harry hoped that Ginny hadn't taken it too badly.

--

Ginny sat on the bed in the center of the room glaring at her locked bedroom door. How dare they?! She was incredibly furious. Her brothers had gone absolutely too, too far. Yes, she was the quiet one of the old trio. Yes, she was the peace-keeper. But when she got bad, there was no power on earth that would keep her from properly kicking ass. Harry used to tease her by claiming that it was a by-product of her vibrant red hair. Susan said she simply let things bottle up too long, resulting in an explosive outpouring when she could truly take no more. Damn, she missed her not-quite-family!

Hence her current situation. Her brothers constantly made disparaging comments and badly hidden innuendos as to the 'poor' character of her two closest friends. She snorted. They didn't know Harry or Susan. They had never met them. They refused to listen to anything good she had to say about them. No matter that Harry had always come between Susan, her, and Uncle to save them from a beating by taking it himself. Never mind that she had fourteen years of memories with Harry and Susan and no recollection of the Weasleys at all. No; she wasn't even allowed to fire-call her friends just to hear their voices and make sure they – at least – were happy.

For such a large house there were very few places she could get away to be alone like she needed when she got too upset. Everywhere she went, they followed her or someone was already there. So here she sat, locked in her room . . . with a chair wedged under the door handle for added insurance of her privacy. While various members of her large family took turns pounding on the door, enticing and threatening by turns.

Author's Note:

Hope you like the chapter. Please tell me what you think. It might be a while before I can update again. I'm not sure how to segue into the next part of the story without it sounding rushed or awkward. I'm not going to abandon this story; I'm just really, really, really slow! (Smiles)


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